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... d everything, and dew clung to the river grass.
Black River Crossing Pier.
Giant merchant ships, like massive beasts, cut through the morning mist and slowly docked. The rhythmic chants of boat trackers rose and fell. The men, their dark backs bare, shouted desolate work songs, their muscles glistening with sweat.
The air was a mix of fish and earth. Someone was selling fried breakfast cakes, and amidst the chaos and noise, there was a touch of everyday life.
Su Y ...
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